


securis

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dust (Dusttale) - Freeform, Dust/Horror - Freeform, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Horror (Horrortale) - Freeform, M/M, Object Insertion, Praise Kink, Soul Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Weapons Kink, mild blood kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: “Don’t have magic,” Horror whispered, right by his acoustic meatus, at the same time he plunged a finger into his entrance.Dust cried out, stuck between rutting up into the hand jerking him and pushing further down on the finger, and then his voice reached a higher octave as Horror’s teeth teased along his cervical vertebrae, biting down just hard enough not to draw marrow.“You want my axe… instead?” he asked, as if hehadto ask.
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121





	securis

**Author's Note:**

> hi im like this.  
> anyways iceberg slime soul makes a return ♥♥♥

He was only vaguely aware of how he’d ended up settled in Horror’s lap; magic thrumming along his joints from fresh LV, so charged that one quiet whisper of, ‘C’mon, bunny,’ had his ecto-body summoned, knowing he was in safe company, all thoughts gone from his mind as he was held, and then spread.

Horror’s fingers were big, much bigger than his own, and he wouldn’t admit how much of a turn on that was. Not aloud, at least. They slid through the slick he was leaking, other hand already wrapped around Dust’s cock. It covered the whole length of it on its own.

“Don’t have magic,” Horror whispered, right by his acoustic meatus, at the same time he plunged a finger into his entrance. Dust cried out, stuck between rutting up into the hand jerking him and pushing further down on the finger, and then his voice reached a higher octave as Horror’s teeth teased along his cervical vertebrae, biting down just hard enough not to draw marrow.

He only noticed Horror adding another finger thanks to the sounds of his own slick magic.

“You want my axe… instead?” he asked, as if he  _ had _ to ask.

Horror spread his fingers within him; Dust’s hips shook, toes curling in his sneakers. “Fuck!” he cried, “Yeah!”

Horror’s tongue licked along the bite — apparently he had enough magic for  _ that _ , but Dust didn’t have enough breath to say anything, the gratitude lost on his own tongue as it dribbled drool down the corner of his mouth — and then he bit down again, a little higher. Right where nothing would hide it, not even a turtleneck if he stole one from Killer.

“...good boy,” Horror whispered. Dust would deny a whine at the words, would say it was simply the loss of the fingers as Horror pulled them out that prompted it.

He was still pumping Dust’s cock, but it wasn’t the same now that he felt so empty and not even bucking up in time with the hand alleviated his need. Horror shushed him with a purr, something some primal part of Dust’s SOUL appreciated, maybe more than it should’ve. 

Somehow, Dust didn’t realize he was reaching for his axe until it was in his field of vision, the cold blade barely skirting along his quivering ecto-stomach. It clinked against his bottommost rib and punched all the air out of Dust’s metaphorical lungs.

“Lick,” Horror commanded, placing the handle right in front of Dust’s mouth. There were blood splatters drying on the wood, but Dust didn’t care.

He opened his mouth, tongue lolling out to run a line along the wood. The blood was tangy on his taste buds, and the LV in his marrow  _ sang _ at the taste. Horror held it steady, so he wouldn’t knock a tooth out on it or anything, but Dust cared little for such things, eagerly taking as much as he could into his mouth.

Sure, the point was to get it wet (and his tongue was working on it), but there were no rules against cleaning it, too. By the time Horror pulled it away, it was absolutely soaked in purple, a line of spittle connecting it to Dust’s tongue before he licked it up.

“You’re… really hungry, huh,” Horror laughed, trailing the axe along the curve of his stomach and tapping Dust’s cock on the way between his legs.

Dust sighed, curling his phalanges in Horror’s sleeve. “Sure am, big guy.”

But he wasn’t the only one by the sounds of it; Horror’s voice had been lower than usual, gravelly and so obviously aroused, magic or not. 

And Dust planned on giving him a show to feast his eye upon, too.

Horror hummed, moving his hand from Dust’s cock up to his chest, much to his vocal dismay. Dust was held still, Horror’s hand close to spanning the entire width of his stuttering ribcage, and it shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

“Ready?”

“Yes!” Dust whined, trying his damndest to arch his hips down. The tip of the handle ran between his slick folds, only making it wetter. It was so close, but he couldn’t  _ move _ , not with Horror holding him back, and it was maddening. “Fuck, please! C’mon, big guy!”

His begging finally got him what he wanted. The handle slid into him smoothly, stretching his walls wide. 

Dust muttered something incomprehensive, leaning back against Horror’s chest as his cunt ached. There was a fundamental difference between the hand on his chest, warm and safe and making sure he wouldn’t hurt himself, and the thing between his legs, sliding into him with a wet squelch.

He choked on a cry, gripping Horror’s sleeve like it’d ground him against the pleasure. The handle of Horror’s axe was cold, even after all the time spent in his mouth, an unyielding wood that stayed firmly lodged in him even when he clenched, walls rubbing over it in just the right ways.

“Aw,” Horror cooed, pushing his shirt further up so he could see the blurry outline of his weapon through the lilac of Dust’s stomach, “Look at you, lambchop. Prime… for a slaughter, aren’t you?”

Dust’s eyelights flicked down as well, watching as the handle was pulled out only to slam back in, wrenching another cry out of him. The blade reflected some of the light from overhead, carefully sharpened edge close enough to his conjured thigh that he pulled his legs further apart, without even thinking about it. 

But there was a buffer of Horror’s hand between him and the blade, and he knew Horror would dust first before hurting him. 

He didn’t get much time to enjoy the sensation of the axe buried in him, because the moment Horror could ascertain he wasn’t in any kind of pain, he started pulling it back out only to slam it in. Horror was the biggest out of all of them, and despite Dust finding the whole calcium collection aspect of LV fascinating, there was no denying the fact that the axe was even  _ bigger _ , and he could acutely feel it each time it hit the back of his cunt, despite the ecto's best efforts to accommodate.

He detangled one hand from where it was gripping Horror’s sleeve and snaked it down to his cock, taking it in hand.

“You’re… so needy,” Horror rumbled, but didn’t stop him from trying to match up with the pace he was fucking him with the weapon.  _ ‘Trying’  _ being the code word there, because he couldn’t quite concentrate. “It’s so deep in you, and… and you still want more, lambchop?”

Dust’s first answer was a whine. Horror slammed the handle all the way inside and ground it against the deepest part of him. It should’ve hurt, probably, but Dust’s body convulsed with pleasure nonetheless.

Horror laughed above him, tightening his hold on his chest to keep him from moving. “I’ve an idea…”

He stopped moving the axe, keeping it inside so that Dust could feel it as his cunt spasmed around it, clenching down as if to make up for the lost stimulation. “H-Huh?”

“Your SOUL,” Horror said, slipping his hand beneath Dust’s shirt. A claw trailed over ribs and ecto alike, making him shudder at the sensation. “Summon it.”

Dust wasn’t sure what Horror had planned, but it wasn’t like he was ever opposed to some of the more intimate acts. The organ sparked to life before them, hovering just outside of Dust’s ribcage, white glow fading into an almost-purple.

Horror shook his head and tutted, tapping his phalange over one of Dust’s ribs. It was enough to pull a shaky gasp. “In here,” he said.

No longer so on edge, Dust could take a moment to breathe. His hips itched to move, but it wasn’t like he could anyways. He willed his SOUL inside his ribcage instead, and was rewarded by Horror’s pleased purr.

The phalange on his chest traveled downwards, to his stomach, just above where the axe’s handle was still buried inside him.

“Over here, lambchop.”

Dust’s breath stuttered when he caught on Horror’s intentions, and the SOUL plummeted down where Horror wanted it. He pressed down on the ecto covering the spot and Dust moaned, wiggling his hips best he could.

The hand returned to his chest, holding him to Horror’s, and then the axe was pulled almost all the way out. Dust’s hand returned to its stroking, his gaze glued to the exposed ecto of his stomach. Horror slammed the handle back inside and Dust jolted, back arching as far as it could. Which wasn’t much.

The tip of the handle hit between the bells of his SOUL, shaking the organ and Dust alongside it. The pace was set, his walls clenching each time Horror pulled the axe out, unwilling to let it go. And then it was right back, sending a jolt of ecstasy through him when it hit his SOUL.

The thick shell protecting its magic cracked a little more with each thrust, until Horror slammed his weapon in as far as it could go, and it lodged itself partway in his SOUL, breaking through it.

Dust threw his head back with a scream, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach and hand as more magic gushed out and coated the axe and Horror’s hand as well. Dust was left shaking, gasping for breath as he rode out the orgasm, eyelights guttering out.

He came back to himself with another jolt, his SOUL thrumming with pleasure that bordered on  _ too much, too fast _ — 

“You… taste good, Dusty,” Horror muttered, holding Dust’s SOUL up to his mouth. There was purple magic coating the entire lower half of his skull, and his tongue too, Dust found when he licked a stripe along the broken shell, lapping up the leaking magic from it like it was the finest treat.

Dust shivered, his ecto-body long dissolved and bones aching from discharging so much magic at once, but Horror seemed to know, thankfully. He couldn’t help one last lick, if only to see Dust shut his sockets against the sensation, only returning the SOUL back to its proper place in his ribcage afterwards.

“Feel better?” Horror asked, licking his teeth.

Dust’s skull was just as purple as Horror’s, though for a completely different reason. “Yeah,” he croaked, voice raw from overuse.

“Good,” Horror purred, and then he picked Dust up like he weighed nothing and spun him around so they faced each other. “I didn’t lie… when I said you taste good… Wanna try?”

Though it had been a question, Horror didn’t give him any time to answer, instead leaning down to slot their teeth together, tongue pushing its way between Dust’s. Like promised, he could taste himself on Horror’s tongue, a sweet aftertaste of almost-rotten meat. Dust pressed himself as close as was physically possible, winding his arms around the bigger skeleton’s neck.

Horror was lucky he already knew Dust’s answer to most of these questions.

**Author's Note:**

> you can talk to me on [tumblr](https://armethaumaturgy.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/esqers)  
> 


End file.
